Subtle Reminders
by SUCH-mirth
Summary: Hermione is in her seventh year and Snape is obviously her Potions teacher, but one day in a dark, dank hallway, Hermione sees Snape in a state she's never seen him in before.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is my first fanfic and since I love the pairing of HG/SS, I'll mostly be focusing on that here. I'm thinking of doing a 6 to 7 chapter thing here, but depending on how things go, there might be more or less chapters. Along the line, there may be some mature content, but since I've never written fanfic with mature content, I'll be a little hesitant and make it as subtle as possible._

_Disclaimer: Since, these are so needed; I don't own the characters and the setting or anything in reference of JK Rowling's genius I'm not making money, this is for fun!. Obviously, this whole thing comes from the genius of JK Rowling and I am merely twisting it to fit my plot. I don't own anything, alright? Okay!_

"Lumos"

The gentle caress of one Hermione Granger sounded through the empty halls of Hogwarts, causing a dull echo to vibrate off the walls. Hermione found herself looking side to side, as she took step after step in the dank castle. She didn't know what she'd heard and even if she'd been mistaken, she knew the sound she'd heard was nothing to take lightly.

"_Ahhh!" _

She shuddered as a sudden low moan reached her ears, which seemed to be coming from the walls. She did a quick 180, but did not dare speak. She was only one person, and a girl for that matter lurking in the darkest nooks and crannies of an aging castle. The sounds led her here, to the Slytherin dungeons, getting louder as she went along. She had no clue as to where or how she'd gotten here so quickly, but she did know just being here was creepy enough.

Just as she was about to turn around and admit defeat, she heard the low moan of pain again. "Hello?" She said hysteria evident in her distant tone. The frizzy mass of hair on her head did nothing to help her see well enough. Each time she moved her head, a curl seemed to block her view. She was surprised she'd made it thus far without being attacked.

_Who would want to attack a scrawny little Gryffindor like you?_

And of course, she couldn't go against her conscience. She rarely could.

Her wand was held limply in her right hand, while with her left, she held parts of her hair back from her face, waiting and listening for that moan that always seemed to make her scared, not for the person's sake but her own. Beads of sweat dropped from her face and onto the cold, battered floor.

Although her eyes were focused on the ground, she hadn't anticipated a hand shooting out from a door that had been closed just split seconds before.

She jumped back with a start, her heart beating as if it wanted desperately wanted to leave her chest and hop off to some far off land where hearts resided. He held her chest absently as she stumbled backwards, pointing her wand at the still hand peaking outside the now open door.

She took steady steps, muttering 'nox' as she approached. Hermione didn't know who it was, didn't want to know who it was, and although she knew she should send whoever this was off to the Hospital wing, she wasn't in the right mind to do so. For all she knew, this could be someone unwanted in the castle, faking ones death. The thought ran through her mind strong and believable, but she didn't want to act on it. So, instead, she bent down, placing her small hands into a much bigger hand, batter from wear and tear of some sort of labor. She turned the limp, pale hand over.

Once she was convinced nobody was around, she stood, pointing her wand in no place in particular. "Lumos" she spoke briskly and found her self kneeling before a man, long strands of black hair falling to the cold stone.

She wiped at the sweat that continued to form despite the coolness that wafted through the dungeons. Hermione turned her head away from the still body, her head bowed in thoughts. Her head was bowed long enough for something strange to happen:

"Stop! I told you..."

Hermione looked down at her arm as she felt a sudden tightening around it. "Get-get off!" She yelled, tears already starting to form in her eyes. She just wanted to get out of here and knowing this man was okay made it okay for her to feel selfish at this moment. "Get off! You're hurting me!"

Still, his grip tightened around her. He seemed to possess some sort of strength, such a fragile body shouldn't and that confused Hermione. Black, long, greasy hair, pale skin, slim frame could only mean –

"Professor! Professor Snape?"

"Mhm…I told you, I swear I told you bloody ki-kids to…bloody do your work right!"

Gulping, Hermione tried a different approach.

Raising her trembling hands, she brought it down on the side of Snape's face that was visible to her. The reminder of the slap was a simple _pat _sound that echoed throughout the long hall_, _but it was very obvious that slapping one of her Professor's was a mistake, even if this was her last year as his student. For one, his attitude was a lot more – demented, as if he was split seconds from returning the same sort of abuse her hand had entailed just minutes before.

Yet, instead of returned abuse, she felt his hand pull further up her arm, until it resting where the button of her robe was. "So muggle of you." He growled into her ear. She shuddered outwardly, trying to push herself away, but his grip on her tightened.

You'd think without a doubt, that Hermione would kick and thrash until her legs and arms came off, but all she could do was sit limp, as the distant smell of booze reached her nose. Her Professor, the one she had underlying respect for, was _drunk_?

"You-yous must be Gr-Granger." He spoke with a detached, broken tone that would stay etched in her mind when she went to Potions the next morning.

"It doesn't matter who I am, sir! Professor, please, let go!"

Was she concerned for his welfare? Honestly, she wasn't. She just wanted him to get his abnormally long fingers off of her robe. It was most uncomfortable and not very _appropriate_. She slapped his hand away with such a force, she wasn't sure if it was her hand or Ron's huge bear like hands she'd replicated to be hers for a day.

For a moment Snape looked surprised, in a daze before his head fell right onto her lap. She jumped slightly, pulling his head aside to rest on the cold ground again. She couldn't help but feel a small tingle run through her body, and reminisce of his head on her lap was still vividly etched in her mind.

"Aquamenti" she spoke, her wand pointed above her Professor's head.

"Wha-wha? Bloody hell! What the hell is goi.." Confusion swarmed over his contorted features, but soon after his eyes refocused, they took on a whole new meaning; Anger, then embarrassment, and then anger again.

"Miss Granger…" he spoke in a drawl of a voice, but with obvious effort. It would have been better if he slept it off, she realized.

She stood abruptly, her back pressed up against the wall, as she watched as the minutes seemed to pass, as Snape approached her. He towered over her small, seventeen year old figure, intending to frighten, but he couldn't help but go further than that.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor," His voice was becoming all the more harsh as he continued with his speech. "And Miss Granger, while you're at it, you can report to my classroom at seven sharp for detention."

"Bu-but, Professor!"

"Miss Granger…You will speak of this to no one. Do I make myself clear?"

"Sir! I- but, I was only trying to help! I do not deserve a detention. As you might know, I have NEWT's to study for."

"I am well aware of that, Miss Granger, but I did not ask for your help and I am sure, you can study in detention. You needn't worry about noise."

Professor Snape rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he did so. Hermione could not help but step forward in the little space they had, extending a tentative finger to rest on a strand of hair that had escaped onto his face.

Snape swiped at her hand, avoiding a touch that he thought to intimate. "Don't Miss Granger. You are my student, I am your teacher. Keep that in mind."

"But, I- Oh, Professor I wasn't intending…" she choked out. She couldn't believe he was thinking she wanted to – that he would even come up with something so obscene.

"Detention, at seven."

What could she say? No? She knew that Professor Snape wouldn't take no for an answer, so instead, she nodded and backed herself into the corner, hoping he'd turned with his ever present dramatic sweep of his robe.

No such thing happened. Instead, he stepped forward with a feral look on his face. He trapped her, grasping both of her wrists. Hermione squirmed, which did no good for her, or him. She felt that same tingle shoot through her body and his body react.

She stopped, turning her face to the side, her eyes closed. She knew what this entailed and if anything she was sure he'd feigned drunkenness.

"Miss Granger…"

"What," She arched into him, a moan slipping from her thin lips. "Sir?!" she said, her voice near hysteria.

"Detention, at seven. Two hours." His breath rank as they neared her ears.

Hermione shuddered against him, sighing into him. She didn't open her eyes until she felt a wind, and his black robe billowing behind him.

_See, there's the problem with you 'Mione. You're always helping people, so next time; just leave him there to wither in his own sorrow of drunken memories. Maybe then, you wouldn't feel the way you do right now._

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" she mumbled angrily under her breath.

How could she let this happen? She closed her eyes once again. She knew she'd tell Harry and Ron eventually, but she couldn't tell them what had transpired while he'd been issuing the detention. No, she hadn't moaned. No, she hadn't let her guard down. No, she hadn't felt vulnerable to his touch. No, no no! And it was soon after she realized one thing -

Detention was her true test.

_A/N: Chapter two, is coming up once I get a good nights rest! R&R, please! No flaming please! If you no likey – don't review. I like constructive criticism, but don't be super harsh. R&R, R&R! _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Okay, so yeah, here's chapter two,, but seriously I had major fun writing this. I was so excited to write it that when I finished it was 2:09 AM. Thanks for the R&R's and enjoy! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, except this here plot._

"Professor Snape?"

"What is it?"

Professor Snape waved his hand absently, indicating who ever was there to enter. He didn't look up from the pile of essays that he was correcting, and distantly, Hermione took that to heart. It was like, he wasn't even regarding her as a human being, but rather like the first year student she'd been only just six years ago.

"Sir?" She said, in a choked voice as she stepped forward once again, demanding his attention. She didn't at all expect for him to lash out at her. He always seemed so calm and collected.

"Oh for goodness _fucking_ sakes! What is it? Is it something of dire importance because I rarely have the time to listen to you say 'sir' all day."

Hermione watched as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking down at the stone floor, recalling the night before. If anything, he should have brewed up one of those potions of his that would stop his head from hurting so much. Or rather, he could take a Tylenol, as muggles did. Unconsciously, she repeated herself, despite his harsh outburst. "Sir? I-"

Before she could even get the rest of her sentence out, she heard the bang of something hard connecting with stone. Her head lurched up, just in time to see a jar falling to the floor and the rage that was streaming through the depths of Snape's dark eyes.

"Sir, I'm here…for- uh oh, let me clean this up." She said, trying to distract herself and him for that matter. She rushed over to him.

"Miss Granger…I assure you that I can do this on my own."

"Professor, you needn't. I'm here for detention, I might as well."

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione ignored him completely, pulling out her wand and pointing it at the shattered pieces of thick glass on the floor. "Repa-"

Within seconds of her uttering her own spell, she could hear Snape's even tone, mumbling the disarming spell. Her wand fell from her hand and laid there. She could have picked it up, she was well aware of that fact, but she was paralyzed for some reason; perhaps, because of the fact that Professor Snape could easily change from calm to crazed in a second and then back again.

He'd changed from last night, she knew that much, and she knew she shouldn't expect much out of the always angry Potions master, but, for a split second in that dank hallway she thought something had changed. _Between_ them.

'_Mione, I know you're naïve, but really? I didn't know you could be this stupid. _

"Oh bugger off!" she mumbled.

"I told you Miss Granger, I can do this on my own."

"Bu-but…but-"

"Surely, you can utter something a lot more intelligible than simply 'but' or perhaps I have mistaken your intelligence."

"Was that a compliment?" Hermione questioned, adding as briskly as she'd spoken "Sir."

Snape always had a field day out of correcting students. It was all getting a bit old honestly, but it was something she found amusing about him. It was as if within those insults were compliments. Maybe he did like her bushy hair. Maybe he didn't mind her teeth. Maybe he liked smarty pants'. Maybe, she wasn't imagining that smile on his face, and those outstretched arms; beckoning her forward for a hug.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Miss Granger." He growled. Pointing his wand at the floor, he mumbled a few unintelligible words and soon after the glass began to piece itself together.

Uncomfortable silence, which Hermione filled by taking a step toward him, completely and utterly ignoring what he'd said. Her cheek flushed as the picture of Snape, his outstretched arms and smile welcoming her into it's embrace.

"Miss Granger…you may sit for your detention…two hours I believe."

But she wasn't listening, those arms were welcoming her and she'd do anything to be in them. _Anything._

Finally she felt her arms wrap around the older males torso, her head resting in the crook of his neck. Hermione sighed, relaxing her body into his –

But he was pushing her away. Why? Hermione looked up with hurt eyes and was greeted with a – a _monster._ Snape's eyes, black as they were, were burning with some sort of hatred, and his frown was more prominent. She'd done something wrong.

Before she could pull away, he tore her arms from around him, swearing as he looked down at the petite student he'd be teaching later today. "Miss Granger, I don't know what you are up to, but I suggest you _not _ever do that again. Now, I believe I said for you to sit, so sit." Snape spoke frankly, his voice a harsh whisper.

Hermione looked up at him defiantly, folding her arms under her chest. "No. I don't believe I deserved this detention at all!"

"Do not take that tone with me."

"Professor Snape, with all do respect, I don't think the Headmaster would find it acceptable if he found out that last night you were in a drunken state." Hermione smiled, stifling a laugh. She was actually calling him out. She was actually doing all of this and she reasoned it was because he'd rejected her. Either way, she was stating what she believed and she knew she could get rid of him if he so much as hurt her.

"You will not ever mention that. The Headmaster will equally question why you were down in the dungeons."

"And I will have an answer, Professor. There's always Veritaserum or rather the Pensieve." She was winning, she could sense it.

Snape took a threatening step toward her, then another. Snape knew Hermione was a very intelligent girl, but he'd never thought in his life time that she would take it to this extreme and use it against a Professor. It seemed unlike her.

"Miss Granger, you best rethink your strategy. The detention still remains. I had a logical reason for giving you one, now sit."

"No."

"What?"

"I. Said. No. Sir."

Snape grabbed onto both of her wrists, holding them tightly in his grip. It reminded him of the night before, their bodies pressed together on the wall. He'd had to get away. It was wrong to have such a reaction to a girl considered to be little – he was after all, more than twice her age. With each step he took, he caused her to take a step back, until she felt her back hit the stone wall roughly. A look of shock crossed her face, before she yelped in pain. "Professor…?" Hermione looked at him questionably before gulping, her nerves getting the best of her. This was assault. Something else she could use against him. "Please stop…not again." She pleaded, trying to appeal to his greater senses – if he had any.

In response, he tightened his grip again, pushing against her petite frame, causing the sharp edged on the wall to dig into her back. She arched her back, trying to prevent further damage to her back, when she felt something – _hard_.

She squirmed away from whatever it was; figuring he had some sort of ornament in his pocket, but it didn't make sense. Pockets were rarely located that low, or in the center of ones legs.

_Come on 'Mione. Put two and two together._

"Oh god…" she breath, deciding against protecting her back and instead letting her back reside on the stone wall. At least then, she wouldn't feel…him; every inch of his body on her.

"Now, Miss Granger, would you prefer detention, or this?"

"What exactly is _this_?"

Through this all, she was still able to get smart with her Professor, even with her dignity in mind.

"Oh, don't pretend like you don't know. I'm sure you've heard Mr Potter and Mr Weasley talking about such…acts."

"No, I can't recall."

An incredulous look breezed across Snape's face, which he quickly hid with his impassive glare. He swiftly moved himself closer to her, confining her to be pressed up against the length of his body. Even she had greater sense than this. She had to see him again today. "Okay, okay. I'll do the detention!" She yelled, squirming free of his grasp. He let her go, watching disgust wash over her face and then relief. Snape smiled as he retreated, pointing to a seat near the front of his classroom. Strangely, he felt dirty. He'd forced himself upon a student for his own joys of feeling another body against his, instead of his lonely night in his chambers where he had to often resort to other ways of…pleasure and completion. It was frustrating and seeing her not react in the way she had yesterday – more or less, had been devastating. He kept it inside though, and thank goodness for the layers he wore or else that hardness she'd felt would have received more than an "oh god" from her.

Snape returned to his papers, and the time seemed to pass quickly, with the previous events simply hung in the air. "You are free to go. I will see you in potions." He heard the sound of her chair against the stone – a faint sliding sound – and she was out of the door.

That hug, although not returned, had been confusing. He didn't understand it. He didn't understand why she would lay her hands on a professor like him, especially after what he'd done the previous night. Snape vowed in his mind that leading her on a bit would be harmless. He'd summon her to the backroom and perhaps she could help him a bit with some simple potions. She'd see it as him making peace. Snape nodded his head and returned to his papers, but before he was completely engrossed in them, he heard the whoosh of the floo network and the familiar green cloud. Dumbledore stepped through, a grave look on his face.

"Severus, what have you done?" The older man looked disappointed as he drew closer to the Potions master. Snape, deep in the pits of his stomach, had an idea of what this was all about. She'd been plotting against him all the while and he was too stupid to notice how defensive she'd been and how she'd been trying to bring the worst out of him. She'd acted unlike herself and he'd been so stupid.

He didn't like having relapses, but this brought him back to the time in the school grounds when everyone had seen his graying underwear. He could almost remember it like it was yesterday because in a way, it was like it happened yesterday. How could he forget the starting point of why he'd joined the Dark Lord?

He'd been clouded by his want; his need to be near another body other than his own and a measly duvet. He continued to stare at the Headmaster, looking up at him finally with confusion as his facial expression. Maybe it wasn't about her – "Why does Miss Granger refuse to attend your class?" Wrong again, it was about her and she'd told. Every time he hoped for something not to backfire, it always did, right in his face.

Even if she didn't tell the old man in detail, the bottom line was that she'd told. This could ruin him, his career. Everything he'd strived for in being the Master of Potions. Snape's grimaced at the thought, his fist clenched at his side.

That's when he came to a very simple conclusion:

Revenge would come to Hermione Granger; to hell with his ideas to woo her.

He turned to look at the Headmaster and shrugged. "I don't understand why she would refuse."

_A/N: If you no likey – don't review! Cliff-hangers are fun, aren't they? :] _


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here's the explanation for chapter 3: In chapter two, I left off with Dumbledore confronting Snape, but what I did not disclose was how Dumbledore found out and what happened to Hermione after she left. So now you know, Snape was literally not correcting those papers for only a minute. He thought it was just a minute, and it was actually 45 minutes after Hermione left his detention period when Dumbledore arrive. I'm giving you the insight of what happened in those 45 minutes, so you won't be so confused with what happens next in this chapter. Enjoy and thank you for the R&R's! I appreciate every single one._

_Disclaimer: Do I really need to repeat myself?_

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_45 minutes before._

Hermione absolutely refused to see Professor Snape, today or any other day of the month. It wasn't so much as the fact that he'd rejected her, it was that he'd made her endure something she didn't deserve at all. He had the nerve, to give her two choices, knowing she wouldn't surrender herself to a man such as him. Even though being ravished was a new, welcoming feeling, the way he'd went about it was all wrong. She didn't like how forceful he'd been, how he hadn't listened to her and assaulted her once again. There was the fact that she'd distantly liked the feeling of him pressed against her once again, but he seemed so dispassionate about it all, that it didn't seem right for her to even feel the way she had. She felt dirty, and used. She felt like a whore.

Quickly after she'd exited his room in a rush, she returned to her dorm room. She looked herself in the mirror, a frown on her face. No tears flowed, even though her heart was aching and her throat was throbbing. She stripped down to her knickers, and made her way into the bathroom that she was so fortunate to have to only share with one other girl. Briefly she looked in the mirror, taking a good look at her slumped stance and the frown that seemed to be imbedded in her face since the previous events had transpired. Turning the water on to its coldest setting, she stepped in, yelping as she came into direct contact with the cold sprays that came from the shower head. She closed her eyes, thinking about what she'd allowed to happen. Although it hadn't gone far, she still felt as though, she'd done the worst thing anyone could do. How would her family react to hearing their daughter had almost subjected herself to being _raped _because she refused to endure a two hour detention she didn't deserve?

Still clad in her dripping knickers, the tears began to stream down her face. She was silent though, not wanting to worry anyone who happened to pass by the door. After a while, she didn't even notice her teeth were chattering and her nose was dripping. She turned the water off, and despite a refreshing shower, where she'd scrubbed herself so hard until there were red welts across her arm, she still felt as if she'd done something unforgiveable.

She breezed pass the mirror, thankful that the dorm room was empty of some of the most insufferable girls Gryffindor beheld. She collected some clothing and a robe and scampered back into the bathroom.

When she reemerged, she was Hermione again – well appearance wise. Her red rimmed eyes had since returned to their normal state and her nose had been dried off. As for the red welts, they were hidden, as were the imprint of Snape's hand on her wrist.

If he had the means to hurt her, she would do the same. She knew it wasn't in her better judgment to tell, but she didn't want to see him and Dumbledore was the only way she'd get out of it. Going to Professor McGonagall would be to embarrassing. She didn't know the female Professor good enough to tell her, despite her gender being the same. Dumbledore just seemed like the rational person to go to, even if he wouldn't understand fully.

-------

Hermione found herself in front of the Headmasters stone gargoyle. She rallied of a couple of guesses, but the gargoyle never budged. She looked at it, blinking for a while, dumbfounded. Why did the Headmaster change the password so often? Once again she began her pursuit in rallying off guesses, but to no avail.

"Miss Granger? Is there something you needed? "

She stumbled as she heard the familiar voice behind her, a sheepish smile as she turned to face her Headmaster. She quickly hid her look of shock with a sigh of relief. She nodded her head once, and tired to explain, but, how could she possibly tell him in such an open area?

As if he'd read her mind, he stepped around her, mumbling the password. The gargoyle sprang to life, jumped aside, and a set of swirling stairs awaited them.

"After you, Miss Granger."

----

Finally in his office, she sat down comfortably, looking over at the Headmaster. Concern was written all over his face, but she couldn't say if it was for her, or for some other matter. With the war that continued to loom over their heads, she couldn't say.

"Tea?"

"No thank you sir. I – I just…"

"Miss Granger, I assure you, whatever you have to say, I will give a straight answer, although it would depend. You see, I'm aging. I don't know the ways of the new world as you."

Hermione smiled kindly, but she had to force it and the Headmaster was not blind to that. It wasn't like her to go to the Headmaster for such material concerns or problems. She was sure; he probably thought she was here because she was worried for Harry's safety. He would be disappointed probably, but something told her, this was what she _had _to do, to make herself feel like herself again.

"I refuse to go to Professor Snape's classroom. Ever."

She looked at the Headmaster with a mixture of defiance and concern. Surely he would understand why, or draw some sort of conclusion of his own. After all, the Potions master had teased Hermione since she'd raised her hand eagerly, blurting out answers when others didn't know and getting scolded for it. Surely, he wouldn't ask why. Surely, he'd just assume she was tired of him making fun of her and that it had nothing to do with the fact that Snape, a Professor had pressed himself against a student.

"Why may I ask Miss Granger?"

"Som-something happened. Please, I just – don't want to go. Can you please excuse me from the class? I'm sure I can continue to carry out his class through other means."

"Although, I could grant you that right, Miss Granger, you see why I can't without a reason, correct?"

Hermione nodded gravely. Her downfall was her hope and she'd hoped to get out of his class.

"Okay. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, sir."

The silence seemed to fall on them both, but Professor Dumbledore made no move to fill it. Instead Hermione finally filled it, out of annoyance and the fact that she only had ten minutes left to spare before Potions actually started. She either went or she didn't. She didn't skip classes and if she didn't get the okay from Dumbledore, she'd _have_ to attend that class with its retched teacher. It was basically a package deal.

"Sir, I really…really can't go to that class. I can't explain it. Perhaps you can withdraw the memory-"

"Miss Granger, I can not." He folded his fingers over each other, peering at Hermione, observing her. Hermione grew antsy under his observation opting to turn away from him, and to find some other thing within the room to look at. This didn't prove to be hard.

"Okay, sir. I-I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"It isn't so much as you wasting my time, but I think with your wit and your mind, you can solve this problem on your own. Miss Granger, you have something other students here do not possess and take for granite. I don't know why you don't want to attend class, it's very unlike you and I assure you – in the long run, you'll be happy I didn't excuse you from class. Miss Granger, instead of looking at the now, look at the future. Attending each class is important – please keep that in mind. I know Severus has a knack of embarrassing you in front of his other students, but be aware that you won't be his student forever."

_But be aware that you won't be his student forever. _

Those words relayed in her mind, and a smile finally broke out across her face as she slid from the chair. "Thank you sir!"

_You sound a bit enthusiastic there, 'Mione. Triumphant are we?_

Before he could get a word in – she wasn't even sure if he was going to bother replying back – she was out the door and in the common room within two minutes. She had a Potions class to get to.

"Yes we are…"

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_After Dumbledore's conversation with Hermione, he has a conversation with Snape. They only have five minutes to spare, before students begin to arrive. _

"Severus, what have you done? Why does Miss Granger refuse to attend your class?"

"I don't understand why she would refuse."

Dumbledore met Severus' confusion with a weary stare. If it wasn't for his respect for the other male across the room, he would have delved into his mind to find out exactly what was going on, but like said before Dumbledore had a respect for Severus, especially knowing what he'd gone through throughout his life. Severus had paid his dues and Dumbledore wouldn't violate that.

"Okay, Severus. I trust that this was just a little misunderstanding."

"It seems so, Dumbledore. Perhaps, she's come to her wits end and refuses to deal with my blunt nature. "

Dumbledore appeared to scratch his chin thoughtful, when in fact he was contemplating Snape's words. Yes, it sounded like the Severus he knew, but instead of holding that same bland touch to his voice, there was more and Dumbledore would figure out what it was in due time, but he didn't think now was the time.

"Yes, it seems so." He echoed, and adding afterword, as Hermione flew in the door, two minutes early.

"Early again..." she grumbled, more to herself than the other two males in the room. In fact she hadn't even noticed them there until her eyes wandered up, to greet Dumbledore's and then slid over to meet Snape's. She shuddered, as a placid smile slid easily over his face. Even thinking that his intent could be any peaceful or friendly made her wonder what he was up to. She instantly wished Dumbledore would stay another minute or three until the rest of the class would file in. "Oh, Miss Granger!" Dumbledore said with a sweep of his hand and with a boom of a voice. "I was just talking to Severus here about…some prior engagements we must look over. I'll see you two much later." And he would indeed, but not for a meeting, as Hermione supposed.

Before Hermione could get anything in, he disappeared in a swirling fire of green and then he was gone. Just _gone._

Hermione looked at that empty spot for a while, and then returned her gaze to her Professor, watching that smile of his play over his face as he took a step forward. As if their feet moved in unison, Hermione moved backward, her hand clasped tightly over her books. "Uh…umm…I have books I need to get!" She said, near hysteria as he took three swift steps that brought them closer than was considered to be a comfortable distance, in her opinion anyways. She stumbled back, tripping because the back of her foot got caught in the indented stone. She immediately felt herself falling backwards…and then nothing. It was as if she was hovering in mid air, but the affect was lost when she heard Neville's voice behind her. Of the most unlikely person to catch her, the most forgetful person and the most tormented student. "Hey Hermione, you should be careful." He said, easing her up on her feet. He sniffed, nodding his head one time in acknowledgement of Hermione's thanks and shuffled over to his seat, glad to be avoiding the Potion master's scrutiny. Snape had since moved back to his desk, an angry glare resolute on his face, but beneath that a very frightening confidence to do what he intended to do to Hermione Granger. She was a bit shaken, but Neville saved her.

Surely, the Professor knew if he was to do anything, he should do it an hour before classes started and not two minutes before class started. It would look and be a very strange situation with him approaching a female student with such a ferocious animalistic facial expression. Normally he kept his facial expressions perfectly schooled, but you knew he was mad and that's what made him such a threat to everyone who thought they could get away without some sort of punishment. The fact that for a moment, for a vulnerable moment Hermione had witness something Neville hadn't didn't make the situation better. The fact that Professor Snape was slipping because of his anger toward her, made her want to crawl into a hole and wait until he got over his grudge, which would most likely be when he was six feet under.

Hermione was sliding into her chair when the rest of the class fought to get through the door, so they wouldn't have to do with a detention with the fatally silent but deadly teacher.

As soon as the doors shut with a bang, and everyone was seated, Snape began in his drawl of a voice. "Today, we'll be review for the N.E.W.T's. My portion of the exams is very simple and as you will see now, it would be smart to study for them, in order to make it easier for yourselves of course." He turned with a flip of his head and a ruffle of his robe to face the board. Raising his wand, a list of notes appeared on the board. It was basically an outline of what they'd learned throughout the years.

"Get to work! You have until the end of class to copy all the notes. If you finish early, you are free to go." That got good reception and a collective number of astonished gasps. It was unlike him to let students go off on their own, when he knew he'd have a lot more enjoyment by watching them struggle to get all the notes down. Snape knew Hermione very well, he though at least, and if he calculated right, she'd be the last one – she always wanted to edit and revise her notes, and add some more, while others took down the basics and headed out the door.

After just 45 minutes, half of the class had already left, including Potter and Weasley. They knew with Hermione, they'd do okay, so they'd take the day off flying around the quidditch pitch while they had the time left.

Hermione knew that there was only an hour left of class and with half of the students gone, she didn't think she wanted to stick around any longer. After just five minutes of jotting down things she'd missed, she eyed ten other students who'd opted to leave the room, grumbling under their breath about how unnecessary this class was. She looked up briefly, seeing only five students, including herself left. She took a deep breath, soothing herself and dipped the tip of the quill into the ink, and scrawled more notes onto her already full parchment. She looked up again, spotting Neville standing up, as was Draco and his goons. They were all steadily packing up, all too distracted to see Hermione and Snape's eyes lock.

Hermione immediately stood up, throwing her things into her bag. She was in such a hurry, she forgot her ink on the desk, and as Draco and his goons disappeared through the door, it was only Hermione and Neville. He was already a quarter of the way there. In a sudden burst of adrenaline, she briskly walked over to him, smiling up at him, as she thanked him once again for preventing her from a most devastating fall. He smiled down at her, and held the door open for her and she sped right through – more like ran. And Snape could do nothing, but watch as she walk – or rather ran away from him. Her name had been on the tip of his tongue to call her back, but then she'd request Neville wait for her and it would just be too much for him personally. He slumped down in his chair, waiting for the next crop of students to filter in, in five minutes time.

He knew that his opportunity to run Hermione into the ground would come…sooner than later.

--------

All classes were done for the day and dinner came, but Hermione could not bring herself to go. The reason: Snape would keep his eyes on her every move and she didn't like that. But when her stomach grumbled, she couldn't resist anymore. Harry and Ron would wonder where she was and why she hadn't come down. She didn't feel like telling them anything at all at this point. In fact, she hadn't told them anything, for fear they'd bash Snape's head in. It was enough that Harry hated Snape already, he didn't need another motive. Ron, well Ron just saw Snape as a greasy headed git.

Hermione found herself walking slowly down the steps, being very careful and aware of which staircase not to step on or which one's to wait a bit for because rotating steps could be tricky, but in her almost seven years here, she'd learned how to deal with them quite manageably.

What Hermione didn't expect was for the step that she was currently stepping on with both feet to swerve like so, and at such a fast pace. Before she could hold onto the railing, she felt her body careening forward, and then she felt herself falling, and the base of the stairs connecting with the side of her cheek, as she hit face first into the hard stone. Her head was throbbing when she tried to look up and her body just didn't seem to want to stop. It was then, that she knew she really despised gravity when she really needed it to lay low. To even think that she could have that thought in her mind was strange, even as she felt her arm move at a strange angle. Her scream was block out by the fact that her body was now sliding and all she saw were black dots clouding her vision. As the revolving staircase connected with a still staircase, her body gave a final jolt, sliding her body further down, causing her torso area to land on her arm that was at a strange angle. But that was enough, for her mind to finally close down, and subside into unconsciousness, but not before she saw....a cloak and black shoes. After that, all she saw was….darkness that she couldn't escape. It reminded her of…_Severus. _

_A/N: I've left you guys with another cliffhanger it seems, but for good reasons, so don't kill-eth me! I need everyone who has read this story to help me out a bit with chapter four. I've got a poll up on my profile and it would be really amazing if people voted in it! I'm stuck at a cross road and I don't know which choice to pick, so whatever you guys pick, will be what determines the outcome of chapter head on over to my profile and vote please!  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Well then, I'm going to have to switch this out of the romance category, because I realized, I found it more interesting…if it was in the – oh wait I'm giving too much away! I'll tell you one thing; I'm a sucker for sad ending. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I make no money – I do for fun. I own nothing._

Black shoes, black shoes. Black sweeping robe engulfing her, looming over her. Hermione Granger grabbed onto the bed sheet, and a piercing scream went through her throat, audible to all within range. She heard feet coming toward her, and hid her head underneath the covers. Snape was coming for her, she felt it.

"Hermione?"

It was Ron. What had she been thinking? Her dream, it was within her grasp, but it faded with that simple question; her name.

She came up swiftly, pain coursing through her head and shoulders; everyone where in general was hurting. Even her legs. Her eyes blinked frantically taking in everything; the bed, the white sheets, the clean smell, and most of all, Harry, Ron and Dumbledore looking down at her with concern. She was in the hospital wing. Why was she even here? She hadn't done anything traumatic, and Hogwarts wasn't known to hold physicals.

"Wh-Why am I here?"

But the lot of them didn't say anything. Harry and Ron, simultaneously looked away, staring at the ground, and Dumbledore remained silent. They were keeping something from her and that made her all the more scared of what happened to her. Why was she in so much pain? She went to stand, but out of nowhere, Madame Pomfrey came bustling over with a phial of something blue and steaming. Hermione eyed it skeptically; this was a potion she hadn't been taught how to make. She went to open her mouth to say something, but before she could, she felt Madame Pomfrey, pulling her down onto the pillow and forcing the steaming blue liquid down her throat. "Miss Granger, you will stay in bed. Do you hear me? You have a good many injuries that need to heal."

Hermione nodded her head defeated. She just wanted to know what happened. "What happened to me?" She waited, nobody said anything again. Was she talking to low? No, he couldn't be. They were standing right there in front of her, looking away, or rather avoiding her question. They were choosing not to listen. They were refusing to tell her something she didn't remember. "Harry? Ron? Please?" She looked at them, pleading for them to look at her. Looking away was helping them not tell her what Dumbledore had concluded.

"Miss Granger, sleep. We will be back much later to tell you what it is that happened during dinner." It was Dumbledore that spoke. She looked at him, worry lines showing all over her face, before she relaxed into the pillow. That was when it all came flooding back to her in a rather vivid picture; the long fall down the steps, her body rolling, hitting the edges of the staircase with various parts of her body, the pain coursing through her body and just before she blacked out, and those shoes. The black shoes. She closed her eyes tightly, and soon after, sleep came and she could not fight it off any longer. So she slept. She'd felt his name on the tip of her tongue. _Severus._

Snape had been there, watching from a dark corner as Miss Granger, with her bushy head of hair, made her way down the steps. His eyes were darkly cast on her. He wanted desperately to cast imperio, but a cast such as this one, Dumbledore would know the source of the spell and from whom it came from. He would not give himself away that easily. So, he simply tricked the stairs and it wasn't hard to do so. The stairs were already tricky none the less, but he'd made it just slightly harder for her to predict what the stairs would do next.

Given the fact that she looked like she was in a rush, Snape couldn't say he'd needed to contribute his hard work. All he'd seriously done was make the stairs move a little faster than her reflexes could take. He watched her tumble, and fall, and for a second, he felt for the girl or rather young women before him, and for a second he felt bad for what he'd done, but only for a second. Surprisingly so, she hadn't screamed, which made his whole plan backfire on him. He'd hoped a bunch of students would come scurrying over after she'd screamed, but she just laid there, crumbled, her arm at a strange angle.

He found himself debating whether he should run over to her, or stay in the shadows. As it was, the former won out and he found himself walking briskly over to her. That was his mistake he realized, because just as he stepped in front of her, he saw her eyes flutter open and then close again. She'd seen him.

With that, Severus flew, or rather briskly walked back into the shadow and down the steps into his quarters. There he would be safe, and if anything, he could simply say she was hallucinating if his name came up. Although he didn't have an alibi, everyone knew if he wasn't in the Great Hall, he was in his chambers. Naturally, he didn't know what happened after he'd disappeared, but he intended to find out; Dumbledore was always a good source of information around here.

She woke up startled and in great pain. She clenched her teeth, as she tried to sit up, but there was a dull ache in her head and she noticed now she had a tight sling wrapped around her shoulder, traveling down to her right hand; the one that she saw bent at a strange angle. "Harry?" No answer. "Ron..?" Nothing. "Professor Dumbledore?" She hadn't expected for them to stay, but something inside her told her, she hadn't slept long enough. Maybe thirty minutes at the most. Strangely enough, the hospital wing was void of noise. Nobody was in here, which always meant Madame Pomfrey was busy in her office.

She decided then, she would leave. She was fine. As stubborn as she was, she didn't believe she needed to rest or lie around and sleep all day long. She had classes to attend, and further more, N.E.W.T's weren't just going to postpone because she was broken.

She moved to put her robe on, but a stab of pain went through her ribs, and she tumbled back onto the bed, disgruntled. "Bloody hell." She whispered harshly in a fit of rage. It was enough to be in here for a few hours, but she felt as if she'd been in here for days, weeks. She wanted to leave now, but the thing was, she couldn't move. Every time she made a move to get up, a dull pain or an ache would course through her and send her reeling.

She tired again though, wincing in pain as she swung her leg over the bed. She could feel the sweat dripping from her forehead, as she braced her knee, her eyes visibly shut. No sign of Madame Pomfrey, strangely.

"Going somewhere Miss Granger?"

She opened her eyes with some difficulty only for them to widen more as Snape stepped forward with brutally slow steps. This couldn't be happen. Her head began to move side to side. No!

"You're not dreaming Miss Granger. I am here, body and soul, Professor Snape. Although you may call me Professor, if my name is rather – unbearable."

"Wh-what are you doing here? Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I do believe she is…in her office. She is oblivious to what is going on out here though. I put a silencing charm on her door. She won't hear a thing, but you see, Miss Granger, I only want to talk."

His walk had a sort of predatory feel to it, Hermione observed. It was slow, yet deliberate, he knew what he was doing and Hermione could only hope that he only wanted to talk. He couldn't possibly do what he'd done – no, she was hurting and her arm was broken, he simply wouldn't. He took a seat before her, his knee rubbing against the inside of her thigh. A shiver went through her body before she could stop herself from closing her eyes tightly again. She made to move again, but another pain coursed through her, causing her to close her eyes tighter. Despite witnessing her obvious pain, Snape's gaze remained calm and collected. Maybe he did want to _just_ talk. She sighed with relief, unable as it was to move, even though his knee was insistent in staying between her legs.

"What is that you would like to talk about, Professor?" She spoke in her most reasonable of tones, trying not to blame him out right for what he'd done. She had a gut feeling it was him. She just knew and if he was going to go this far to hurt her, why even take this lightly.

"I would just like to say that, it must be a tragedy, being in here, broken and vulnerable and unable to do your school work at all. Your friends must be very worried, Miss Granger."

"It would seem so. They visited me earlier, as did Dumbledore. He knows what happened; everything."

Hermione watched as confusion, shock and even slight panic went through Snape's face in a matter of minutes before being replaced with cool resolve. He said nothing, not wanting to give too much away, but he was a man of few words. He was saying too much already and he knew it was because he was angry; angry with her, angry with himself. He hadn't expected to go this far.

A small smile formed on his face, as he pushed the chair closer to her, the space between the two becoming smaller. Discomfort was showing all over her face but perhaps that would get her mind off of the fact that she probably knew it was him that had caused her injury.

"Miss Granger, you must be in a great amount of pain. I could help you lie down." He offered.

Hermione looked at him skeptically, but she really did want to lie down. Although her arm was in a sling, it seemed to drag her whole body down with her and it was getting uncomfortable sitting on the edge of the bed. She was sure in a matter of minutes; she'd be sliding down the bed. She gave a small nod, and within seconds of nodding felt his insistent grip on her back, and her thigh.

How intrusive.

"Thank you."

What happened next was strange though. Instead of saying you're welcome, he propped himself above Hermione, on all fours. That predatory gaze returned, and for a scrawny man, he was very strong, she observed.

"What are you doing?" All these questions swarmed around her head. She wanted to ask, why would he even consider doing something like _that _when she was so visibly hurt and after she'd said thank you. Now she was regretting ever deciding to go down the stairs to get dinner. She could have skipped it, but she'd said no. It didn't make any sense why this was happening to her.

"Nothing at all."

"You are most certainly doing something! Get off!"

She knew if she began thrashing, she'd hurt her arm even further, and that dull pain in her head would return wit ha vengeance. Her left arm was in better condition and she brought it up to touch the center of his chest. He flinched away, not expecting her touch at all, and he hadn't expected the touch to be gentle. He'd expected a fight actually, even if she had injuries. This only made his job just a little more unbearable and boring.

"Professor, please. Please…not like this. I-I don't…Madame Pomfrey!" _She'll see us, _was what she almost said, but she clamped her mouth shut. She wanted – no, she didn't want this but more than anything her hormonal urges were winning out. Her mind told her to fight with all she had after all this was the person who'd made her fall, but her body, her soul was telling her to give him a chance. He had a reason.

"I told you, silencing charm. You of all people should know what it does when cast."

For a second Hermione looked at Snape with pity and it was that look that he caught on her face that fueled him further than he thought he'd go. He hated when people looked at him with pity and furthermore, he'd only intended to frighten her to begin with. Then he'd only wanted to hurt her, now…now he wanted to scar her.

He braced her waist, pulling down on the waistband of her pajama's moments later, a crooked smile on his face.

"Don't pity me Miss Granger." He hissed, more of a command than anything.

"I-I…please."

Snape couldn't decipher if she was pleading for him to do this, or pleading for him to get off. He could feel her arching her back into his hands, urging him to remove her pants.

"Miss Granger, what in the bloody hell are you doing? Are – are you urging me on?"

"I – I no. Get off!"

"But…don't you want me to do _this_?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip, as Snape pushed her pajama bottoms from around her waist. Minutes after, as their eyes connected, Snape could feel a hint of a smile forming on her face, as if she was ready to laugh; laugh at him.

"No, I don't." To be honest, she was a bit weak in her conviction. "Now, please…just- just please get off. I just want to know why-why you pushed me down the stairs, Professor. What did I ever do, to deserve this?"

Snape placed his hand on the band of her underwear, his hand hovering over her. He felt the slightest movement between his legs, wanting to let himself spring forth, but he was unwilling to submit so early. He looked up at her, his eyes heavily lidded.

"Miss Granger, do not accuse with no solid evidence. As it may, I did nothing of the sort."

"Please Professor, what did you do?"

"Miss Granger, I refuse to answer you, so stop asking."

His tone was icy, and the words stung deeper than anyone would understand. His tone also had a trace of disgust. Those words to her meant, she wouldn't say a word, even if Dumbledore or her friends offered her their safety. She knew Snape would find a way around it. She just had a feeling. His words always meant more than he actually said.

He lowered himself, not being very conscious of her injured arm at all. She gasped out in pain, trying to wiggle away, but he had her pinned down. She closed her eyes, tears welling up. She tried to speak, she really did but nothing came out. Little did she know that she'd arched into his hard on, arousing him further and causing a shock to go through her body. She shivered, despite the tears and the conflicting feelings for what she felt was going to happen.

She braced her hands on the sheet, lowering her body slowly and it was like they were connected because he moved with her as well. Hermione knew the stories; knew that under that robe was probably a set of gray, aging underwear.

Hermione gulped as he reached for his pants, bit down on her lips as his hand hastily worked to remove the button and zipper. She could just see a sliver of what appeared to be something gray when Snape doubled over, falling off of the bed and onto his knee clasping his hand to his arm. A painful gasp came from his mouth, and words now etched into her memory were spoken. "He-he's angry…" It was the first time she'd seen him in pain. It was the first time, he'd ever shown his pain openly, even if unbearable.

"Who?" She was truly worried and yes given the circumstances, she shouldn't be, but he was…in obvious pain. She stumbled from the bed, with a gasp of her own, and kneeled before him. She tried to put a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed her off roughly, and she fell back roughly against the steel of the bed. She bit down her lip, waiting for the pain in her arm to subside.

"Who do you think?" he hissed.

"Oh." Her word was barely a word, more of a gasp.

"Oh?"

"Look, I didn't-"

"No, Miss Granger, for once, save it." He stood, straightening his robe and continuing to bend over to zip himself up. As he did so, he turned and was confronted by Harry of all people. A scowl formed on his face as he faced the obviously angry teen.

"Where are you going?" It was Harry that spoke and it was Harry who saw Hermione leaning clumsily against the steel of the bed, clad in her underwear. His eyes moved to Hermione then to Snape, then back again. No, it couldn't be…he couldn't have. He'd seen him crouching on the floor clasping his arm, and then bending over himself, doing something he obviously didn't want Harry to see. It just couldn't be possible that a Professor would ever put his hands on a student, let alone make them look that disheveled.

"Mister Potter, my whereabouts are of no concern and no business of yours."

"I think it is. If it has to do with Voldemort, I think it does."

As he spoke those words, he walked over to Hermione, slowly helping her up onto her bed.

"What happened to you?" he said speaking in a whisper.

He returned his gaze back to Snape, hate written all over his face. Soon he returned it Hermione, but she quickly shook her head, using her good arm to push the coverlet over herself.

"Hermione…"

"Harry, nothing happened. Professor Snape doubled over, I was unaware of what I was wearing, and he was startled so he pushed me away." When had she begun lying for him? It was unbelievable.

"Oh...well, try and stay in the bed. I'm pretty sure Professor Snape can take care of himself."

"Mister Potter, Miss Granger."

He nodded his head specifically at Hermione and his only reason for that was because she'd openly lied to her best friend of many years, to protect him and what he'd been about to do. He felt stupid for once in his life, for ever going this far; for even thinking to go that far.

"But – you need – I need to know where you're going!"

"Mister Potter, you can wait."

All fell silent as they both watched Snape go. Harry turned back to talk further with Hermione, but saw that her eyes had closed and she was dozing in a very awkward position. Other than that, she looked…unharmed. Harry couldn't help but thing that, something was up between the older man and his best friend and he wanted to find out, if it was the last thing he did on earth. He was also divided between staying with her or going after Snape. As it was, his mind was made up for him in mere minutes.

He watched her for a moment, before retreating and going back into the hall. He looked for any sign but found Snape nowhere. His shoulder slumped, his frown deepened and he needed to see Dumbledore for his daily training. It was the only thing he did nowadays.

After a few minutes of laying there and feigning sleep, she was glad, Harry had left. She didn't know how long she'd be able to fake in front of him. It seemed that was all she did and what happened now, she vowed would never happen again. She'd be more careful and most of all, she'd stay close to Harry and Ron, or even her other friends. Anything to avoid this confusion. Through this all, Madame Pomfrey hadn't stepped into the room once.

Hermione laid back into her pillow. Voldemort was angry and that could only mean the war was approaching. All had been but quiet these past weeks, but everyone knew that wouldn't last. The end was coming and she had a broken arm.

_A/N: I don't know…I was slightly discouraged. Even with a general path, I didn't know how far I wanted Snape to go and I wanted to keep it in real context with his real character. Knowing Snape, everyone knows he has this huge façade built up, but he does have a decent bone in his body and that's what I was trying to show here. When he nodded to Hermione, that was his way of saying, "okay I'm truly done – I got ahead of myself." I also, wanted to fit in the war plot for once and for all, you know, so I can put this story to rest. I enjoy writing this, but I want things to progress. As much as I'd love to do 30 chapters, I really only planned on a little over 6. I'll see how it goes, but I'm really craving some action and tragedy, it's hard for me to wait :]_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Tell me, are you ready for some pretty awesome sauce action? I am! You'll get a little taste in this chapter and this is only a quarter of what is to come. Hope you enjoy! Oh and please R&R! _

_Dislaimer: You know the whole yada yada, I don't own anything but this plot I've created using J.K Rowlings genius._

After rushing from the hospital wing, Snape presently found himself in his living quarters. He took a deep breath before grabbing his traveling cloak, walking over to the floo network and disappearing in a haze of green clouds. The mark still pained him but it was now lacking in intensity. He knew now that Voldemort was growing impatient and that he could wait no longer.

When his head stopped spinning, he stepped from the fireplace, trying to recognize where he was, but to be honest; he'd never seen this house before. His eyes travelled throughout the room; but there was no sign of his lord and he was growing worried. The throbbing of his arm was now a dull pain and as he turned, his wand at ready, his stony resolve turned into shock. His wand was pointed at his lord.

He quickly replaced his shock with his same stony resolve, it was best to keep under control when Voldemort was involved. For one, he always had to keep his mental barriers up, so Voldemort only saw what he needed and now was not the time to lollygag.

"My lord."

Snape bowed his head and kneeled on his knee, being careful not to look up or move until his lord spoke.

"Get up, Severus." The pale man spoke in a hiss, his voice cool and cold at the same moment.

On carefully hidden shaky legs, he stood, his head still bowed. What Voldemort loved most of all was intimidation and by having followers, he could intimidate, and scare them at his free will. They were all very accessible and Snape presumed it was his day to be scared.

"It's time Severus. Bring the boy to me. Do anything to lure him back home." It all was a bit dramatic, Snape had to admit. The boom of his lord's voice and the small sweep of his arms through the air, and his open toothed smile all added to the element of theater; Dramatic.

It was then that he realized he was inside the Potter's home. He was repulsed but at the same time, very much curious. Lily lived here. His Lily. He found himself staring at the ground, not bothering to answer his lord in the affirmative.

The last audible thing he heard was "Crucio" before he began seizing up with pain that coursed through his very muscles and caused him to clench his teeth in order not to show weakness; it would only fuel Voldemort to go further. Despite his unwillingness to scream Voldemort continued, until he could bear no longer. His mouth open and a scream of pain emanated from his mouth. "Y-ye-yes, m-my, my l-lo-lord!"

How he managed to speak, he didn't know, but he did know between screaming he'd managed those simple words. Then it just stopped all together. Voldemort withdrew a devilish grin on his haggard face, his skeletally pale fingers still curled loosely around his wand; and still pointed at Snape.

"Do not keep me waiting Severus. I want the boy here by the end of the week. No excused. I will finish Potter off, and the whole of the wizarding world will be in my very hands. In our hands."

Voldemort chuckled before disappearing into a haze of smoke. Gone.

Snape stared at that spot for a while before he up, with some difficulty. He clenched his hand on his knee, looking around the decaying walls and ruined furniture. Peter Pettigrew would pay for taking his Lily away, his only true friend. With that, his cloak swung in a circular motion, but his motion didn't have the swiftness and confidence it normally held. He was drawn, weak and limping.

Soon after, he disappeared in a haze of green cloud thanks to the floo network. And, he knew what would come next; brushing ashes off of his shoulder, and reporting to Dumbledore, as usual.

----------------

Hermione was worried. Very worried and although she shouldn't care at all about the well being of a Professor who'd almost…could she call it rape really? Her body had been saying yes to the situation at hand, that she'd wanted this, but her mind was telling her otherwise; that what he'd done was _almost rape_. But the way he'd nodded at her and shown withdrawal, she knew that he wasn't all _bad_.

Shortly after Snape had left, followed by Harry, Hermione had laid awake, waiting for Madame Pomfrey to come out of her office, or maybe she wasn't waiting for the head nurse, but rather for Snapes arrival.

She found herself leaping out of bed at every sound outside the door, or looking outside the window at each abnormal rustle of the wind. It was strange that she was acting like this. The older man had practically felt her up two times already and had come very close to taking away something sacred, if it hadn't been for Harry. She swore out loud, something she rarely did. She was cursing Harry. If he hadn't shown up, maybe, maybe it would have gone a little farther. She didn't know, his mark burned him as well, so the pain the mark inflicted was to cause as well. He never did come though.

"Miss Granger! Such a foul mouth on you. I wasn't aware your injuries were causing you such anger."

Hermione turned to Madame Pomfrey in surprise, having to blink a couple of times to clear her vision. She smiled sheepishly at the older woman and shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry, but I need to get out of here, Madame Pomfrey. I'm fine! I need to see Dumbledore."

"For what reason Miss Granger? You are deeply injured and some of those swollen bruises are still healing. Look at your wrist; it looks as if I never put any ointment on it. You will stay here, Miss Granger."

"I can't tell…you. I mean, I have to tell Dumbledore first. This is really, _really_ important. He needs to know what's going on."

For a second, Madame Pomfrey hesitated, and lost some of her tough tone when she spoke again. The head nurse seemed deeply worried for the girl before her, but in the end, finally sighed and let up.

"I'm telling you now, Miss Granger, do not exhaust yourself to much. Your arm still needs healing, your legs are badly bruised and your wrists are bruised. Please, do be careful on the staircase. I shouldn't even be letting you out."

Hermione nodded her head, and shifted steadily out of the bed. When she stood, it felt as if she was holding the weight of the world on her shoulder, like the Greek God Atlas. She clenched the edge of the bed, and as if the head nurse was reading her mind, she had a pepper up potion in her hand. She downed it quickly and made her way throughout the room, by clenching onto the metal poles on each of the beds. Once she made it to the hall she'd be sticking to the walls and only occasionally straying to go to the stairs of course. No, she wasn't scared, not at all. Of course she was scared!; scared out of her mind that she'd end up being shipped to the hospital wing again with the same injuries except twice as worse. The pain, the agony.

She finally made it to the door and still the potion hadn't kicked in as yet. Taking a breath or two, she looked at the expanse of the hall area, which led to the stairs going up or down.

The first sign of battle began when she stepped on the first pair of stairs. Death eaters were already almost on the third floor, and she didn't have enough strength to turn back. What did that say about the rest of the floors before the third? A small part of her died inside. She thought of her parents, and she felt utterly at lost. They didn't know yet, but Hermione was already prepared to lose her life at this point. The last thing on her mind was how they'd gotten in. It was…impossible really but there they were; staring her right in the face.

Her false hope was thinking Severus would show up and save her.

--------------------------

Snape brushed his travelling cloak off, and sat it carefully over the chair. Dumbledore, with his long spidery fingers looked at Snape with concerned eyes. He watched the Professor pace the room for a while, before he indicated with a sweep of his hands for Snape to step forward.

"I assume you'll go into detail about your adventure…"

"I arrived, not knowing where I was. Voldemort was there of course, and it was only after I left that I realized I was in the home of Lily and James Potter. Voldemort wants me to lure Harry there."

Well, that was just about how much detail he would be going into. No matter that he had a slowness to his walk or a worn look, Dumbledore could interpret it any other way, but Snape would not tell him what pain had been inflicted on him. To him, it seemed too personal for him to divulge in matters that were of no concern at the moment.

"Severus, I know its hard being on two sides, but know that you've done a lot for the Order. Despite the fact that many fail to see what you've done behind the scene, just know you'll always have my respect.

Honestly, Snape was surprised. Not because Dumbledore was spilling all these things out. He knew that Dumbledore respected him, because Severus had a strong respect for the much older man in front of him. The thing that surprised him was how fatherly the older man sounded; how nurturing he was time and time again and he'd never said thanks once. With down cast eyes, he nodded solemnly and stood.

"Don't you think it's time to hold another Order Meeting? Harry needs to know what he's up against and further more we have to make further plans. Harry is still considered an amateur in the eyes of Voldemort and dueling against him won't be easy."

"Ah, Severus, don't worry. Harry and I have been working mighty hard up here, but the Order Meeting is indeed much needed."

With that both of the men made their way silently out the door, down the spiral staircase and out into the hall. The halls were completely deserted but neither man made any effort to break the silence. Instead, they silently made their way slowly down the stairs. It was when they reached the fifth floor; they were confronted by a sight they both couldn't hide their shock from. Before their worn faces were scattered bodies, various people running back and forth, going downstairs, but none going up due to the sight of Dumbledore and Snape. None of the whizzing spells stopped though. There was a jet of green and a thud afterward. It was hard to follow everything when the room was filled with students and Death Eaters alike.

Snape was pushed into gear quickly, withdrawing his wand, but hesitating soon after. This wasn't the final war. This wasn't what would determine the future of the wizarding world. This was only one of the Dark Lord's sinister ploys to send a deadly message; that this would happen, but ten times worse in the near future. He could do nothing but turn to the old wizard beside him and hope for some help, but as it was, the older man was blocking spell after spell.

He knew if he retreated, he would look utterly stupid in the eyes of both the Death Eaters and the students aware of the Order. As it was, he was on both sides, so that was an open passage to walk through without getting hit. He was…invincible, so to speak.

Masked faces thudded to the ground; masked faces shot jets of light in the direction of those students willing to fight. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see the cowering figure of Draco, but it was to be expected, especially when he had to attend school here after this matter was settled. Not once did he have to deflect a spell, but they kept raining down on Dumbledore, and the older man looked wearier than ever. Out of the other corner of his eyes, he spotted Harry dueling in a rather dark corner with a masked Death Eater, and he didn't know who it was under that mask until a burst of high pitched laughter reached his ears; Bellatrix.

There she was reveling in the fact that she'd single handedly brought the Boy-Who-Lived to his knees. What he would do just to see how her end came.

"Not so strong are you, Harry Potter!" That same high pitched laughter as she taunted him. Harry quickly came to his feet, a jet flying from his wand, and hitting Bellatrix square on the shoulder. She stumbled, once, twice, soon falling to her knees.

"Karma works in mysterious ways, eh Bellatrix?"

Snape shook his head. Although the boy had landed a spell, it didn't mean she was finished. If anything, that made her want to fight harder, and longer. Snape descended the steps, speeding through the room, his wand in hand. He thought he'd made it out of this area, before he heard his name.

"Severus! Where do you think you're going?"

Snape turned to a masked face, knowing from the voice that it was indeed Lucius Malfoy. Scowling under his breath, he turned to the masked Malfoy.

"Third floor, Lucius. I'd like to see if there's…more I can do."

He was attempting to keep his statement as neutral as possible, but just talking to a Death Eater was dangerous and his suspicions were answered when a spell caught him on the side of his leg. He clutched it instinctively, but within a few minutes the pain was gone. The source of it, he did know, but after that spell, an avalanche of them came and it seemed they were all either badly aimed, causing them to hit him, or very nicely aimed and hit their target only to be deflected by the older Malfoy.

"Damnit, Lucius. Carry on with what you will, but don't distract me." Snape said, between dodging spells.

"Oh, Severus, calm down. It was a harmless, elementary spell. Probably some first year cast it. "

"There are children fighting?" Snape gave him an incredulous look, before carefully looking at the bodies, motionless on the floor.

"For all we know, yes, but who cares."

"Hmpf."

"What was that?"

"Lucius, while you stand there, isn't there a thought in your mind you'll get hit?"

"Yes, there is, but I'm talking to you now. I've done very well in deflecting them and you are in the same situation, Severus."

"Carry on if you will, but don't expect me to sacrif-"

"…_Kedavra!"_

This unforgivable happened to be nicely placed, but Malfoy wasn't the one to thud to the ground. The voice was so calm, so cool, and so cold; it wasn't hard to differentiate what gender it came from or which group.

----------

She hadn't made it another step down the stairs. Once they'd caught sight of Hermione Granger, a friend of the Boy-Who-Lived, they'd done the only thing that would help them get what they needed most of all; Harry Potter.

"_Stupefy!"_

Hermione crumbled to the floor, just seconds before seeing the jet of red as it left a Death Eater's wand and not being able to react for fear of falling down the stairs and breaking her arm once again.

As that jet of red hit her square on her chest, everything darkened, and her eyes closed. If anything, she would look as if she was dead, seeing as how damaged and fragile she looked at the moment.

She was lifted roughly from where she lay in an awkward sitting position on the edge of the staircase, and carried up the stairs. There were many masked faces, fallen bodies and spells whizzing back and forth. Hermione was dropped, none to gently, landing on her back.

If anything she was one of the dead.

In a corner, Severus was talking very vocally to a masked face and if anything, members of the student body were noticing.

Then there was a rush of two voices, and from the looks of it, it was Lupin and Harry.

They bent over Hermione's body, looking at the rise and fall of her chest. Lupin raised his wand, Harry with worry lines, as he stood. Although everything seemed to come to a stop, Bellatrix hadn't let up. That spell he'd managed to aim at her shoulder had angered her and he felt as if she would duel him until he died. She wanted complete acceptance from the Dark Lord, and she figured this was the way. If anything, she would end up dead if he died and everything would be a complete loss.

His years of wanting to kill Harry Potter would be a complete waste. Harry saw her wand raised, trained and ready and the words of the killing curse on her lips. In one swift move, he ducked his head, turning to Lupin, who was the next to get hit if it missed him.

"LUPIN DUCK NOW!"

Lupin looked at Harry, confusion on his face, but a second later he was faced down, as a jet of green streamed through the room.

Lupin managed to nod at Harry, before turning to Hermione.

"_Rennervate"_

Just as the killing curse hit it's mark, Hermione turned her head in the direction it was aimed, and the first thing that went through her mind was confusion and then shock at the person crumbled to the ground, frozen in their own misery of death.

Everyone stopped, and looked about the room, but Harry and Hermione were the first to get up, a sudden fit of adrenaline coursing through their veins.

"NO! NO! NO!"

It was Hermione who spoke, as she kneeled in front of him.

"Harry! We-we need to do something! NO! He is alive and…and…he's just – he's just-"

Her words failed her, as she bowed her head, Harry with his arms wrapped around her back. Harry was unwilling to cry, and he didn't care if Bellatrix was after him. Hermione on the other hand was balling into his fisted hands.

Not even a second went by, before that same cold voice uttered another unforgivable; Crucio.

And instead of hitting the target, it was completely off. Dumbledore had since moved down the steps, but since the cease of the fight he'd been looking in the general direction of the victim.

It was in that last moment when he'd moved, bending down over the victims body that the spell whizzed past his head that save the older wizard from intolerable pain.

It was obvious that she'd put everything into that spell, because Draco began writhing in pain on the floor, and Bellatrix didn't seem to know what she was doing nor who she'd hit because she didn't let up, until a masked face ran over, knocking her and her wand to the floor.

"That is my SON! You will meet your end, Bella. I will make sure of it."

In reply, Bellatrix cackled, getting herself together and picking up her wand.

"No, Lucius, I will not. If anything, the boy was next in line. He's a coward. Look at him!"

Everyone stared in awe, and at this point, the fight ceased. The general public was now aware that Lucius and Bellatrix were present and now they knew Draco's dad was a follower of the Dark Lord.

--------

_A/N: Gah, I just hate writer's block and I've become obsessed with ping pong. For two days, I had it and I was just sitting on my bed staring at my laptop, trying to come up with something…good yet surprising. Ya know? Well, here is my good and surprising! Sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm really really sorry! From the bottom of my heart, but this is getting way to good to just tell everything in this chapter XD. You'll find out who was hit by the killer curse in the next chappie. _


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Well, hey there. How are all of you doing? Good, good. Just a heads up, in chapter five, that wasn't a battle or rather it was of sorts, but it wasn't the final one. It was just one of Voldemort's surprise attacks, so he can get his message across. There will be romance between, the obvious Snape and Hermione, but it won't happen until you understand the purpose of the battle in the first place. I know, you expect them to bond and become closer before there's ever a fight, but that's so…getting old, that I wanted something to bring them together; and I didn't want that thing to be Hermione becoming Snape's assistant. It just didn't work for me. Enjoy and R&R por favor! _

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything_

"YOU! BELLATRIX I WILL KILL YOU!"

In a fit of rage, Hermione stood up slowly, her eyes huge and blazing with tears. Her hair was frizzier than before and she was so oblivious to the locks that were in front of her face, that to everyone, she looked as if she was missing the general parts of her face.

Every face turned to face her, even the hushed argument between Bellatrix and Lucius ceased. Silence, for once consumed the whole of the fourth floor. All waiting to see what would become of Hermione Granger, with a threat that could get her killed. Nobody stepped forward to help, but from the corner, Snape and Dumbledore were slowly moving forward.

Hermione's wand was pointed across the room, aimed solely at Bellatrix.

"Hermione, don't do this…please?" Harry pulled urgently on her wrist, trying to get her to calm down, but he knew – he knew deep down, Hermione would not listen to him. If Harry wasn't in the right mind, he would have been just like Hermione, but as it is, he'd dueled Bellatrix momentarily and dueling her now would only be a disaster for Hermione. Bellatrix would ruin her.

"Why Harry? You're actually going to let this pitiful excuse of a human being get away with killing Ron!...Well, I won't allow it, Harry! I will not!"

Hermione stood defiantly, wiggling violently to get her hand free of Harry's grasp, but failing. She crumbled in a fit of tears, pounding her fist into the stone. She wasn't stopped until Harry grabbed a hold of her wrists, and held them.

"Hermione, I'm just as mad as you are, but you can't fight her. You're not strong enough, and Ron wouldn't-"

"Harry, how would you know what Ron would want? We were all a trio. She took our best friend away from us, and you want me to think about myself, when we have to tell the whole of his family that they've lost a son?"

She said it in such a tone, that Harry knew he couldn't win. She had many points, but even so, he wouldn't let Hermione go about it this way.

"No."

Harry spoke simply, finally letting her go. He gave her a grave look, as he heard steady cackling from the corner of the room. Obviously, Bellatrix found this funny.

"Harry….I have to."

Hermione stood stood, anger and adrenaline pumping through her veins as she listened to the eerie sounds of Bellatrix's laughter. The minute she pointed her wand at Bellatrix, she ducked, barely missing the cruciatus curse. Swearing under her breath, she looked back at Ron – her Ron – she was doing this for him.

Hermione blindly ran forward, as the room fell silent. Nobody moved, not even Dumbledore or Lucius. It was like they were waiting for Hermione to end her life – it was like they wanted to see another body crumble to the ground.

So when Hermione felt a gripping spell hit her square on the chest, she let out a terrified yelp and crumbled to her knees. Tears flowed from her already swollen eyes. Her eyes finally met with Bellatrix, blazing with something completely opposite from mirth.

"You…deserve to be thrown into Azkaban!"

"I've already been thrown into Azkaban and for far worse." Bellatrix snarled, raising her wand.

"Imperio!"

The spell hit her square, causing her to flop to the ground and soon after rise to her feet. Why wasn't anyone helping? Why wasn't Harry trying to help her?

"Dance! Dance! Wee!" Bellatrix began bouncing around the hall, puzzled faces; surprised face just stared, as a fellow student was controlled on the whim of a psycho. They didn't want to believe what they were seeing. Everything, the bodies, the death eaters in their safe haven was all a lie. A sick mind game.

"Bellatrix….stop it."

Of all people to speak, it was Snape. Hermione didn't know if she should feel humbled or angry. She didn't need him to fight her battles. This was her problem, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel glad.

"SEVERUS! You never have fun at all. You're always so deadly serious. Have some fun with me!" She said, laughing as she wrapped a single hand around the serious mans shoulder.

Severus withdrew uncomfortably, mumbling something under his breath. Within seconds, Bellatrix's wand tumbled out of her hand and Hermione followed, falling to the ground in a heap, with a small "Uf!" of pain.

"That is one thing you haven't fully learned Bellatrix. Never let your guard down."

Snape lowered his voice then, drawing her into the corner. "What the hell are you guys doing here? How?"

"Snwapy Wapey, I shouldn't tell. My Lord set it all up. Genius that he is. It's too bad. I will be telling him what happened here. It is really unlike you to stop our fun…considering how you were many years ago. Yes, fun you were." She said cracking a grin, as her thin fingers crept over the front of his pants, before being snatched in his grasp.

"Leave now. You've caused a great deal of commotion here that I am left to clean up." Even lower now. "Give His Lord a full report. I'll be there in no time, if needed."

If anyone noticed this small conversation, they said nothing – for the most part Dumbledore was keeping everyone's attention diverted and Harry was already tending to Hermione – probably scolding her – or trying to divert her attention away from the body of one Ronald Weasley – their best friend.

The body of Ron Weasley had long since been removed from the room, as had the bodies of death eaters. Speaking of death eaters, they'd all vanished in a fit of black smoke, even Lucius. Snape looked at that exact spot where Draco lay and frowned. No, it was the boys fault and if anything, he would not be doing anything of the sort to help anyone.

He began his decent to the dungeon, only to be stopped when he heard someone following.

"Professor! Professor?"

Bloody hell. Wasn't she just kneeling in front of Harry, talking to him, tears streaming down her eyes? Clearly, she didn't know when she overstepped her boundaries. Snape slowly turned around to face her, that same impassive look on his face.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I well – I just wanted to say…I don't know."

She swayed, slightly, slipping down a couple of stairs before grasping the wall. All of which prompted no movement from the Professor. The after affects of the spell alone was mangling at her movement and coordination.

She dug her heals into the stone, looking down as she nervously nibbled on her fingernails. That simple act caught Snape as strange. Why was she so nervous? But then it all came flooding back to him; what he'd been about to do and how she'd been willing to just…give it up.

"Well, if you have nothing to say, I will be off."

For five minutes he was sure he wasn't being followed. He'd made it to his classroom, when he heard a faint clatter. He turned and was greeted with the same face. Even after what he'd done, no, almost done, she was still coming after him. What was wrong with her? Clearly she wasn't as smart as she put out to everyone.

"Yes? Is there something you need from me Miss Granger, or do you have some strange infatuation with following people around the school at times such as this?"

Hermione blushed pink, and stepped out of the corner. "I just wanted to say that…" she paused, hesitating before she continued. "I just…if you need any help, I'm here."

Bloody hell where had that come from? When had a student ever offered help to Professor Snape? It seemed highly unlikely and more so not possible to ever happen.

"Miss Granger, I think I am perfectly capable of handling things on my own."

Snape spoke stiffly, his eyes slowly grazing over her obviously matured body. _Remember she's a student! Keep it professional._

The think is, he couldn't. He met her eyes squarely and although it didn't show, he was melting.

"In less, you'd like to take private potion classes, but I don't offer those lightly…" _I don't offer them at all_, Snape almost said.

Snape didn't wait for her reply, and simply walked down the spiraling steps.

"Yes, sir!" Hermione said, in a whispered salute.

As he disappeared around the corner, the frays of his black robe disappearing from her sight, realization finally hit her.

Ron was _dead, and _his family had no idea.

Hermione crumbled to the cold stone floor, her head rested in her hand, where she gently let the tears flow under the watchful eyes of Harry and Dumbledore, who were silently devising a plan for her death.

_A/N: Sorry this took me so long. School and all, just made it way to hard to do anything, but here's the sixth chapter. Obviously, there's going to be more at this point, cos it's only the beginning. I tend to leave off with cliffhangers, but I think this one is the greatest one of all, because you can come up with an infinite amount of ways of interpreting the meaning. Anyways, enjoy._


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Sorry this took me over a month or two to get to. School is getting really hectic and soccer season just finished, so things are finally calming down. Anyways, R&R. If you don't like then don't bother reviewing. If you have some constructive criticism then that would be great. _

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything. Work of fiction._

_Next morning…_

You could say Hermione's tears stopped but the hurt she felt deep in her heart was still evident. She went about her day like any person silently grieving.

She spoke little, and ate even less.

Furthermore, she hadn't been the one to tell the Weasley's about her son and her best friend.

That blasted old man. For once in her life, Dumbledore annoyed her. She was supposed to be the one to tell them how sorry she was, not Dumbledore. Ron was her friend, not the old man.

Hermione was miserable for the whole of the day, slumping through all the classes and barely going through her old tendencies of raising her hand eagerly.

Ron is dead. Ron is dead…Dead.

Tears streamed down her eyes and she quickly rushed off to the bathroom. Catching a glance of herself in the mirror showed a tearful girl with swollen red eyes. How had things amounted to this? How was Ron dead?

"Ron! Ron! RON! PLEASE STOP JOKING! This is not funny…" She crumbled to her knees, banging on the tile floor repeatedly until her wrists began to hurt her. She curled into a little ball until her eyes slowly drifted close.

Strangely it was a black figure that accompanied her as she swirled into unconscious sleep.

_3 hours later…_

Hermione woke up with a start, looking around absently, trying to place where she was. She wasn't in her dorm, she knew that much. _Stalls, mirrors, sinks._ She shot up on her knees soon after standing on her two feet.

"Oh bugger! Class. How long…no." She shot out of the bathroom, her speech coming out jumbled and incoherent. Her bushy curls were a lot more frizzy and wild, making her appearance come off as if she'd just went through 5 exams in one day. Nobody would find her appearance unusual, not with her best friend being dead anyways.

News flew fast in this place. It was the one thing she hated the most at the moment.

She passed by people and places, blindly making her way to the nearest clock. 5:30 in the evening it read. Her classes had long since been finished, but just an hour ago she was suppose to be taking her private potion lessons.

"I can't…" she began. The thing is she didn't know what thing she couldn't do. She was speaking, just to speak; wasting time, just too waste time.

She whirled around then, bumping face first into the man she'd been prepared to see.

"I uh..I..I…Professor." she said lowering her head. She made no move to say sorry for she knew how Snape took apologies; he didn't take them at all.

He looked down at her with those same stony eyes. He didn't say anything for a while before nodding his head. "You will come with me for your lessons." He mumbled.

He turned on his heels and in that same swift silent manner he always seemed to walk, he headed in the direction of the dungeon and Hermione followed close behind, her head still lowered and her books hugged to her chest.

_In the potion classroom…_

Hermione looked around, her eyes emotionless. She was past that stage. She needn't show emotion; not in front of her Professor anyways. He'd tell her to wipe the tears because there was no use in crying. He'd tell her the truth and she wouldn't accept it. She just couldn't deal with that…not right now.

She sat at the front desk, dropping her things as soon as her butt hit the chair.

The sudden clatter caused Snape to turn and face the discontent girl and just as the words were going to pass his lips, he stopped himself. The look on her face was so much like his own.

"What would you like to learn, Miss Granger?"

"I don't know…I assumed you'd have a lesson planned."

"Miss Granger I realize you've lost someone important in your life but -"

"No, Professor, you don't realize and I'm very sorry for taking this tone but…How would you feel if you lost a friend Professor? I suppose you don't understand…" she said as an afterthought. She thought she was in the clear with him. She thought she could say anything she wanted around him without having to deal with the consequences, but within seconds of her speaking those words, a set of hands slammed down on her desk and lunged toward her wrist.

Her reflexes were to slow to keep up with his movement, so when she felt his hands tightly coiled around her wrist; she looked down trying to understand what was going on before looking up at his face.

"What..-"

"Miss Granger, I know how it feels to lose a friend. Trust me…I know and the worst thing was…I never got to say goodbye. In the end, it was I who killed her because I was young and stupid and I thought Voldemort was the only one who could save me. Do not tell me I don't understand how it feels to lose a friend because at least you have the satisfaction of knowing you had a great relationship with your friend. I did not." As he spoke, his grip tightened until he could feel his eyes watering.

He turned from her then; rubbing vainly at his eye to rid the water that he was sure would spill over. Lily…he remembered; his best friend, his only friend.

"Maybe you should go, Miss Granger." He said, clearing his throat. He heard her books ruffling around, and retreated to his desk, still not turning to face her.

When he felt a set of arms circling around his waist he looked momentarily startled and then shocked. The nerve of the girl…but he felt his body welcoming it. Even though he knew this was wrong, knew that any such physical connection would ruin him, he could do nothing but welcome it. She understood like he did that losing a friend was hard. Still, in his mind this was wrong. So very wrong.

"Miss Granger, please…" He'd pleaded a lot in the past and he didn't think the likes of a _girl_ would cause him to do that again.

"Professor...I'm sorry. I'm hugging you because I'm sorry."

"You...you can't touch me. I am a teacher and you are the student! Get off, Miss Granger."

But Hermione would not yield. She stayed there, shifting her body so her front was pressed tightly into his back. She had no clue what she was doing, nor did she think she was doing anything wrong. It was only a hug.

Snape began prying at her hands until he got one hand free. When he went to her next hand, she simply replaced the hand he'd managed to unclasp from his waist.

"Miss Granger, we can not!"

"Can not what Professor? Why can we not hug? We are two people who have been through the worst of situations. Why can't you be human for a minute and accept the compassion of another?"

"Because...you are a student. You are treading dangerous waters."

"It is you who is making a big deal out of nothing."

"You call this nothing! Your body..." He trailed off, uncomfortable with what he was about to describe, but the silence was presently broken when Hermione filled it in for him.

"Is pressed up against mine. Is that it?"

"For blood sakes woman, get off me." He said. In a fit of rage, he whipped his body away from hers causing his arm to swing freely into her, hitting her square in her midsection. She fell with a surprised _uff_ before tumbling to the stone floor.

Snape quickly bent over. And his only reason for doing so was so he wouldn't get in trouble. If anything, he would have stood towering over her and waited for her to calm down, but students were still bustling around the dungeons and he couldn't deal with explaining the sight before him.

He dragged her to her feet, his eyes once again a black expanse of nothingness. Strangely they drew her in.

"Miss Granger, I am quite sure you can walk." He said, leading her to a chair. As he was letting her go, she clasped both hands on either side of him and her legs swung on either sides of him. He felt as if he was carrying twice his weight. "Miss Granger! This is unlike you! What has gotten into you and furthermore you need to be on your way! I will not deal with this nonsense today, or any other day. Not from you." He said harshly. He gave her the dirtiest of looks, but that only caused her to grasp him tighter, and tighter. A tingle went through his body at the contact and he just didn't know what to do...

----

_On the staircase..._

"Won't she suspect somethings up? Hermione's smart. She'll know what we're trying to do."

"Harry, my boy, this has to be done. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yes..." Harry said gravely.

The plan itself was gruesome enough. He didn't understand why Hermione had to take part in it with no knowledge with what was about to happen to her.

He didn't need to risk the lose of another friend, but it was to protect her...this was the only way. He looked up at the old wise man in front of him and nodded his head.

"Who...who's going to do it?"

"Snape will. He will understand that it is important to be rid of her. To save you. To save Hogwarts."

"But why? Why Hermione..?"

Dumbledore contemplated for a while, before he launched into his explanation. All while they both continued down the steps. Their destination? Unknown.

"Because Voldemort will target her in order to get to you. This is the only way Harry. My advice would be to spend as much time with her as possible. The war is approaching and she is our last hope. She is better dead than alive."

A single tear slipped from the corner of Harry's eyes but all he could do was nod his head. This was for Hogwarts he had to remind himself. For Hogwarts.

In the back of Dumbledore's mind, he felt that he was doing the boy a disservice by not telling Harry the whole story. He'd see in the future that he was only trying to spare him the anguish. He'd see that this would save them all, even if it meant blood shed.

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_A/N: Here it is. I spoke a bit in code with the last part, and you'll understand why in the next chapter. In the next chapter I'll tell you Dumbledore and Harry's plan in detail. It'll be a flashback since it happened the day before that they were planning Hermione's death. Oh, and vote in the poll in my profile so I know what to do surrounding the issue with Hermione and Snape that's going on in the potions room! Kay, thank you and R&R. _


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Goodness, what has it been?! A month again, sorry. I was just really lazy and I got to reading other HP/DM fan fiction and then I was like "Oh, I'll finish typing this tomorrow." And lo and behold I never did. Anyways, as you guys voted: Snape is to unclasp Hermiones legs (But it's not gonna be that easy) _

_Disclaimer: The usual._

Pristine. He wished he could say this moment was perfect, but it wasn't. Snape was fighting against his better judgment and he'd never had to fight his better judgment. As it was now, he should have been finished correcting papers and making the potions that Dumbledore had requested and lord knew he had to make a lot. Nobody knew what would happen in the upcoming war, but Snape knew that it wouldn't be easy to win. People would die; people would squirm in pain and all Snape could do was make potion after potion in order to keep busy – for both sides.

If he was in the war, Voldemort would see what side he was actually serving. He couldn't risk that. He wasn't ready to die. Years ago, he was ready to lay down in a coffin, but now that he had a common purpose, he wanted to live through it.

It made sense, didn't it?

"Miss Granger, please…" It had been long since he's pleaded and for different reasons. He'd pleaded to be trusted, to be saved, and to help and now he was pleading for a woman to get off him. He honestly, _didn't_ think his life was a joke right now, but that was all sarcasm. His life was becoming a bigger joke than he could handle.

Her head was pressed closely against his cheek. She could feel the bristles on his face scraping against her face, but that brought a comfort she wasn't willing to give up as yet. Her arms were wrapped loosely around his neck and getting tighter by the minute while her legs were weakening considerably because of his squirming.

Sensing his obvious distraught, she spoke in a comforting tone. "Please, what?"

"You bloody well know what! Just-just get off, will you?" It wasn't a question. It was a command, but it was obvious, he had no authority right now and he didn't like that fact.

When neither of them moved, the rooms silence felt complete. There was a distant sort of serenity, the two of them in this awkward position. One wanting this moment more than the other. And like that, the silence was severed, by the tiniest of whimpers.

"Miss Granger, you can forget about these private lessons!"

Though, now that he thought about it, he was almost regretful that he was revoking it. Prior to telling her she'd be taking private lessons, he'd had no intention of teaching her with a purpose. He already knew she was knowledgeable in things having to do with potions, although a little iffy, but now, with what Dumbledore had told him, he had to put what he'd just said into perspective. He couldn't simply push her out of the private lessons. This wasn't optional and Dumbledore had made that very clear when they'd sat down in his office the day before. It was only Dumbledore, Harry and himself, spaced out amongst the round table.

Snape could remember it as if it was just a couple of hours ago. It was still fresh in his memory and it would be hard for him to forget with the girl who would face her doom unexpectedly.

"_I understand you're giving her private potions lessons." The old man said, his elbows heavily on the table top and his fingers intertwined. _

"_Yes. She's knowledgeable but she could do a lot better. I'm sure she wouldn't pass up the chance to get better."_

"_Although your purpose is quite aimless, Snape, I have a preposition for you," Dumbledore looked between the two men at the table, his wise eyes focusing on Harry. "And you." _

_The room remained silent and it seemed that the old man was stalling simply to build up anger in both men. Just before Harry was beginning to get impatient, Dumbledore spoke; his plan elaborate but coming at a cost._

"_Snape, I need you to teach Hermione all you can about Potions and what you know of Defense against the Dark Arts. There will come a time where you will have to make a choice and unfortunately, that choice is set in time. You will have to kill Hermione Granger," The headmaster paused, but it wasn't for the effect, he was simply taking a much needed break._

_Simultaneously, Harry and Snape spoke, very close to being in unison. "WHAT?!"_

_Harry continued to shoot a glare across the table. "Him? Honestly, Dumbledore, he wouldn't hesitate!"_

"_You're out of line Potter. Tread lightly." Snape said, his tone clipped and his eyes shooting daggers. He didn't understand what the old man was getting at, but nobody ever did until it all played out. _

"_You see, he's not even denying he wouldn't-"_

_Dumbledore held up his hand, his lips pursed and the boy immediately quieted. "Let me explain clearly. You will win the girls trust. You will kill her. I need you to brew up a set of healing potions and I also have a list of potions I'll need you to brew for other reasons I can not disclose as yet. And you Harry, I'll need you to draw three vials of centaur blood. You will aid Snape in any way you can. I will need you two to trust me. This plan depends on you. In the end, you'll understand." _

_Harry was visibly distressed, rubbing at his eyes to avoid the tears that would surely come. Snape had his arms crossed on top of the table, otherwise his gaze was neutral. He trusted Albus, but the death of another Hogwarts student? Sighing, he stood to leave, but was stopped. "Snape. Harry, you may return to your classes. You will be summoned in a fortnight." _

_Harry walked away slowly, the protest evident on his face and trepidation even stronger in his features. When the door closed, Dumbledore turned to Snape with a solemn look._

"_Now, I will tell you the whole truth…"_

Dumbledore had given him a fortnight to finish over two hundred potions. Seventy five percent of them were simple old school potions that he didn't need a book for and the other twenty five were spells so dark he would surely need someone else's help. Dumbledore had thought this out, Snape knew that much. That someone else was to be Hermione Granger, who was still holding onto him as if her life depended on it.

"Professor. Professor? Are you all right?"

No, he wasn't all right! He had to kill a _student _all while trying to make sure his allegiance was veiled. But, Dumbledore had told him; he needed her to trust_ him_ or this wouldn't work and they all needed this to work.

He said nothing in response. His hands were still firmly wrapped around her ankles. He pulled out, feeling her arms tightening even more around his neck.

He was finally able to get her legs free of him; he felt them kick against his leg. He quickly went to work, prying her hands free of his neck.

He watched her fall to the ground as he let go of her arms. He looked down at her. He wasn't getting off on a good start.

"Now, keep your sentiment or physical callings – whatever you would like to call it – to yourself. Granger, you will be helping me with a list of potions it seems. You'll be dealing with healing potions and I will deal with the other ones. Understood?"

"What are the other potions?"

"I can not disclose that. Do you understand, Miss Granger?" He said more firmly.

"Yes, I understand Professor."

"Good. You will report to me each day after your last class of the day; this includes weekends, so don't try to skip out tomorrow. I will have dinner brought down to you if you deem it necessary." He spoke icily, trying to keep his tone even, but failing miserably. He was always good at the threatening tone, but whenever he wanted something a bit calmer to show he was in control, it never worked.

"But – wha – what are they for?"

"Madame Pomfrey needs a supply of potions. Normally, I brew them, but I will be quite busy in the next couple of days. I need…Dumbledore didn't want me to strain or rather, mess up on the potions he gave me. Is that explanation enough, Granger? We will start tomorrow. Don't be late." It was something Snape would say regardless, but he'd rehearsed those words in his head repeatedly.

"Yes sir."

And so, the plan began.

As she walked out, Snape instinctively clutched at his arm as a stinging sensation coursed through it. No, it wasn't just stinging him, it was burning his inner being, causing him pain. He was always good with masking pain, but he was visibly weak today, considering just a few days ago, he'd seen Voldemort and had to deal with the subtle affect of the cruciatus curse still.

Then he remembered – Voldemort had requested him to bring Harry to him, but he couldn't. Not now. Not so soon. He'd have to figure something out. He knew he'd have to prepare himself for more pain, but his excuse for not bringing Potter had to be plausible; unquestionable.

The pain became insistent and he crumbled to the ground, scratching at his arm. He'd made sure to keep the watering of his eyes and the shaking to a minimum – waiting for that familiar sound of a door closing.

He crawled miserably as the pain in his arm intensified. Traveling cloak pulled from hook, floo powder in hand, Snape made his hurried exit, this time being transferred to a graveyard.

He didn't land as smoothly; he landed crouching on his hands and knees, his fingers tightly curled into the dead soil.

"GET UP!"

He shivered internally, but stood anyways on very shaky legs.

"I see the Potter boy is not here. Why?"

Snape still hadn't come up with a reason as to why. Snape was too busy closing his mind off to note the deadly tone that was clear on Voldemort's tongue.

"WHY IS THE POTTER BOY NOT HERE, SEVERUS?"

And just like that, it clicked.

"Dumbledore is making him search through the Forbidden Forest for materials for these healing brews he'd like me to make. Dumbledore sent him off today, and has strengthened the barriers solely for Potter's sake. It would be impossible for me to pull Potter away considering some of the ingredients, I will need for you, my lord. I thought then, I would have the potion done and be able to lure the boy to you, using that potion."

Bloody hell, thinking back a second, what he'd said was complete bullocks. Firstly, Dumbledore would never let Harry do a drop off; Secondly, his explanation kind of made sense until he got to the last part.

Voldemort seemed to be thinking on, his anger forgotten.

"Severus, if you do not bring me the boy in a fortnight, I will see to your death; a very painful one. Your mind never does tell much, but I can understand that. You are skilled in occulmency. Don't let me question your loyalty to me, Severus. There are many who would like to be in the position you are. Just remember, your position at the top can always be brought down to everyone's level. I will not hesitate to kill you, no matter how valuable. "

Of course, Snape knew all this. He wanted to roll his eyes, but could not; out of fear.

"Yes, my lord." Snape dared a look up into those cold, emotionless slit-for-eyes. He could didn't feel like looking, it made him quite uncomfortable, but he had to prove his loyalty. Eye to eye contact was the only way.

"Remember, a fortnight." Voldemort finally said, before laughing softly under his breath and vanishing in his same manner; in a haze of clouds.

Snape was surprised he had gone with no injury but upon further inspection, he noticed the arm that bore the dark mark was swollen red. It had never been this worse.

Standing to his feet, he shook visibly as he tried to muster the strength to make the trip back to the castle.

With one last attempt, Snape raised his wand and apparated, thinking of his soft bed, covered in his dark-hued duvet and that's where he landed – and he appreciated the soft landing. He looked around the similar surroundings but was barely able to do anything – his eyes were slowly shutting, despite his protests. He stripped each article of clothing off his body – well besides his boxers.

Seconds after snuggling into the duvet, he fell into a deep slumber; and even in sleep he was able to maintain that same scowl he held 24/7.

_Next day…_

Snape could feel someone tapping him. It was irritating. Where was he? The graveyard? No, he'd made it back. He was in his bedroom chamber. Who could possibly be in here?

_Perhaps it's Albus._

That was his initial thought.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, his vision blurred, but his vision wasn't that impaired that he noticed this wasn't Albus. Firstly, Albus didn't have bushy brown hair and such big brown eyes. Secondly, Albus wasn't a girl or young. That basically factored him out completely.

"Hermione." He sneered out; forgetting himself and addressing her by her first name.

Without thinking, he sprang from the bed to check the time; he would ask questions later.

"What the bloody hell are you doing in here Granger? This is my _bedroom chambers." _ He said, emphasizing strongly on the last two words. He hugged his chest tightly.

"I-I. Well, I-I, Professor Snape?"

"WHAT IS IT!? I ASKED YOU A QUESTION MISS GRANGER."

"You – you're only wearing b-boxers." A magnificent hue of red colored her cheeks as she backed herself into the corner, but not leaving.

Snape looked down. His facial expressions went through a variety of shock, anger and rage.

"Answer my question." He sounded so sinister. It was almost frightening.

"I-you told me to be here to make the potions."

She was right, he hated to admit it.

"Get out and wait in work station." He bit out. She hurried out, closing the door behind her.

Scowling, he went into the bathroom, taking a quick shower and getting dressed in his usual attire. No matter what he did, he could not get rid of the wet, earthy smell he carried with him.

When he was ready, he closed his chambers with a slam of his door.

In his usual manner, he put his head up high, his nose in the air and walked into his work station – lined with potions, cauldrons, spoon and the likes.

"You've been working closely with Madame Pomfrey, so I don't think I need to explain the healing potions on the list."

He put the potion list on the table she was working at and walked briskly across the room to obtain the ingredients for the list of five potions that would take him endless days to complete.

They worked like this for hours, the silence dwindling on. Snape made no effort to talk, although he was suppose to be gaining her trust. Well, did Dumbledore honestly expect Snape to be kind to this pest? No, Dumbledore was planning something and though he knew the whole truth, there was something the old man wasn't telling him.

_A/N: All righty guys, I need your help once again. I'm not feeling very creative and I need a bunch of creative names that can be the names of the five potions Snape is making. I also need a list of creative ingredients that can be found in the Forbidden Forest, the black marker (of the wizarding world), and from the muggle world. Mind you, these ingredients don't have to have been mentioned in the HP books. If you'd like to help me PM on here! Oh, R&R. I hope you like this chapter…Trust me, when the end comes, you'll understand why I couldn't tell you what Dumbledore said..until the end. It'll mess up the surprise and all. _


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